Night Club of Doom
by ladyspock7
Summary: A seedy night club has come up with a clever new act. Megamind is not amused.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's notes: This story was inspired by Grandiose Me's "The Other Woman Incident." It got me thinking: What if Megamind took an insult to Roxanne a little more personally? And thus this tale was born. A scene from the original Blues Brothers movie also proved inspirational. (And yes, the fact that a movie with the word "Blues" in it helped inspire this story does strike me as ironic.) Anyone who can name the scene gets brownie points. (Though it may be easier to identify in the second chapter.)**_

_**A big thank you goes out to my beta readers, Nora Salisbury and Hunger4Righteousness, who kindly offered feedback, moral support, and pointed out the correct use of "was" rather than "were."**_

* * *

Night Club of Doom

Megamind flung the newspaper onto the table. "How long have you known about this act?" he demanded, clipping short the last word. Leaning back in the chair, he rested one hand on the table and glowered at Minion.

Minion shifted his feet unhappily. _I can't believe I forgot to throw it away, _he thought glumly.

He glanced at the ad to give himself a little time to come up with a tactful answer, though he remembered well enough what it said. He'd come across the paper while he was picking up some extra test tubes at the university. He'd gone into a students' lounge to hit the vending machine for some snacks when he saw the paper lying on a sagging couch. It wasn't one that he normally read, being full of ads for places that he and Sir never visited.

It had caught his eye because it said something about an 'Evil Master of Villainy' so of course he'd read it as he wrenched the front off the vending machine, and paused as he reached for the candy bars. He was shocked, then disgusted, then worried. If Sir found out about it there would be no end of trouble, though exactly what form the trouble would take he did not like to guess.

But instead of immediately throwing it in the trash where it belonged, he must have absent-mindedly carried it back to the Lair, along with all the other stuff he'd been carrying. Oh, that's right, that was about the time he'd heard someone enter the building, so he had to make a quick getaway. That's what had happened.

A single gloved finger tapping on the table brought Minion out of his recollections.

"Well, maybe a week?" Minion mumbled.

"And you were planning on informing me of this detestable performance _when, _exactly?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, it must have slipped my mind." Which was true enough, though Minion had been hoping that Megamind would, ideally, have _never _found out.

Megamind glowered for a moment longer, then pushed away from the table and paced across the room. Several brainbots hovered expectantly at the abrupt movements, looking to see if Daddy was ready to start playing. Eyestalks drooped mournfully as Megamind ignored their 'bowgs' and continued to pace.

"I'm sure the novelty will wear off in a few weeks, Sir," Minion said, hoping to placate the coming storm. "I mean, I know it's pretty horrible, but how many people are even going to see it? It's not like it's on TV, or like they put the ad in any respectable newspaper. It's no big deal, it's..."

"No big deal!" Megamind snapped, his pacing making the cape swirl. "This effrontery cannot go unpunished! Why, it's an insult! Anything that tarnishes the good name of Roxanne Ritchi must be quashed."

"It must?" Minion said in surprise.

"Of course it must!" Megamind strode briskly across the room to the bank of monitors, currently showing seventeen different TV stations. He typed instructions on the keyboard and two of the lowest screens began showing print.

Minion hadn't been expecting this particular angle. It didn't surprise him that the boss was angry about some stripper making herself up to look like Miss Ritchi, but it was a surprise to hear him admit it.

"Why?" he asked cautiously. In order to keep up with Sir's train of thought, it was helpful to board at the right station. He edged closer and peered over Sir's shoulder. The words 'Pussycat Club' were at the top of the nearest screen, but the rest of the print was too small to read.

"You know how much that flying galoot depends on his sterling reputation!" Megamind said without turning around. "If the more reputable branches of the media get wind of this, it will ruin everything! Seeing a couple of talentless hacks dressed to look like Miss Ritchi and myself prancing around together on stage will plant all the wrong ideas in people's heads. Rumors will fly. Tongues will wag! Do you know that sleazeball DJ on WKAM is already making snide remarks about the possibility that Roxanne is willfully involving herself in her own kidnappings? It's outrageous. And now this scuzzy dance routine will add more fuel to the flames! Before you know it, people will be gossiping that she and I are...are...well, you know." He waved his hands vaguely around in the air. "Metro Man will, at first, be outraged and indignant. Being the heroic type, he will, naturally, stand by her, claim it doesn't matter what people say, blah blah blah, but he'll crack under the pressure, you mark my words. He can't handle bad publicity. He'll break up with her. We cannot let that happen!"

Minion scratched his dome. "We can't?"

"No, we can't!" Megamind whirled. Minion hastily took a step back. "Don't you see? Our battles are never more intense than when the life of the helpless damsel is at stake! The drama! The heightened emotions! It's so much more rewarding than kidnapping some random, anonymous bystander and putting them in mortal peril." Whisking his cape around he paced across the room again.

Minion watched him for a moment. Calmly he said, "He could just hook up with someone else, Sir." Megamind stopped pacing, cape swirling around his boots. "He's the most eligible bachelor in town. Why, if he started dating someone else, you would have someone new to kidnap. Wouldn't that make it more interesting?"

Megamind slowly turned a gaze of steel on him. Minion returned the glare with an expression of helpful innocence. _Wonder what he'll do with that, _he thought.

"No, it would not," Megamind said coldly. "Furthermore, there is the little matter of the _personal _insult this ridiculous performance offers _me._ Personally. Wouldn't you agree?"

Minion sighed. "Yeah, I guess it is pretty bad."

"Quite," Megamind said through his teeth. "It cannot be allowed to stand. Prepare the brainbots."

* * *

Gene looked up from the order forms at the cries of alarm that cut through the booming synthesized music and the heavy bass beat. He pushed away from his desk and almost got smacked in the face when the office door flew open and Tammi burst in, bosom heaving, which was normally a welcome sight, but the panic in her eyes got his attention this time.

"Gene, you gotta get out here!"

He hurried out into the hall. Frightened girls were pouring out of the dressing rooms and crowding the hallway. The music ceased as if someone had pulled the plug and now he could hear shouts of alarm and a few screams from the waitresses on the main floor. The sounds of stampeding feet indicated that an attempt was being made by his customers to vacate the premises. Gene's heart pounded with dread, and he hoped against hope that whatever was happening was not really happening, but every citizen of Metro City recognized the distinctive sound of brainbots swarming.

Gene tried to deny the evidence of his own ears. It couldn't be him! He _never _came to strip clubs! He was _famous _for it!

He ducked as several brainbots swooped over his head and down the hallway he'd just come out of, girls yelping and ducking. A couple of the brainbots were of a type he hadn't seen before, bigger and heavier, with a solid sort of look to them. They were completely black except for the rows of glowing blue spikes that ran down their backs like mohawks and their gigantic bear trap jaws opened and closed sedately, as if they were sharks testing the water.

Off in the distance a male voice shrieked, "AAAAAAAAAHHHHH! Get it off! Get it off!" Was that his bouncer screaming? Vinnie?

Gene looked around in bewilderment at the storm of pink and purple feathers. Excited brainbots swept through the whirling fluff, snapping and tearing them in their jaws. His field of vision was unexpectedly filled with big hair and the furious, glittering face of Cheri, who had been chased off the stage.

"They ate my boa!" she shrieked, arms wrapped around what was left of her costume. Gene winced. Cheri's voice could crack crystal. He grabbed her shoulders and moved her firmly aside, just in time to see Vinnie sailing through the air and crashing into a table, and from there to the floor.

Megamind strolled through the swirling feathers, past the overturned chairs, running his gaze over the room with a smile of grim satisfaction. Minion, dragging Roscoe the other bouncer along by his shirt, walked over to him.

"All secure, Sir."

Megamind clasped his hands behind his back. "Threat neutralized?"

_"Very _neutralized, Sir," Minion said, glaring at Roscoe, who made a keening sound and clutched at the metal hand twisted into his shirt.

"Why is he making that noise?"

Minion shrugged. "Must've caught a few chest hairs."

"Ah. Well, just put him with the others. A bit more gently this time, if you please, Minion."

Minion hauled the bouncer over to the opposite wall underneath the glowing pink neon 'Pussycat Club' sign, where a squadron of the big brainbots had herded the customers. The DJ was nowhere in sight, but then Gene saw him leap out from under the sound booth, a brainbot snapping at his legs and driving him towards the group huddled against the wall.

He finally spotted Mitzi, his girlfriend and club manager, at the bar. He rushed over to her at a speed just under a gallop and grabbed her arm. "Mitzi, what-"

"He didn't pay the cover charge!" she whispered.

Gene looked at her in astonishment. _"That's _your biggest worry?" The blood rushed out of his face. "You mean...you sent Vinnie to _collect?" _

"Of course not!" she snapped. "What do you think, I'm stupid? Him and Roscoe did it themselves!" If she'd known what those idiot bouncers were up to, she would've told them to just let Megamind come in and leave him alone. The way he'd entered, it was pretty clear he wasn't there to enjoy the show. Especially, she thought with a sinking feeling, with the sort of show they were currently putting on.

Megamind stalked across the room, coming straight for them, stepping firmly on the groaning Vinnie's fingers as he passed. The ruckus of the excited brainbots and the babble of voices became fuzzy and distant. People were complaining about their cell phones going dead. Gene felt the bar pressing into the small of his back. Mitzi squeaked, and he realized he was crushing her arm and he let go.

Megamind stopped in front of them and gave them a hard look. "My money's no good here. I'm sure you understand." Megamind managed to look down his nose at him, even though Gene was a good half foot taller and Gene felt his shoulders curl in on themselves as his body unconsciously tried to make itself a smaller target.

"You are Gene Dibble, the owner of this establishment," Megamind said.

Slowly Gene nodded, as if making careful movements would somehow improve the situation. He made a gesture toward the cash register at the bar, in the vague hope that this was just a robbery. Some distant part of himself was amazed at the hope that it was "just" a robbery.

"All the money in the till, it's..."

"Come with me," Megamind said. With a sweep of the cape, he strode toward the back of the room.

Mitzi smacked Gene in the chest. "Straighten up! What's the matter with you!" she hissed.

He whispered fiercely in her ear. "Get back there and tell Lloyd to shower off! Hide Candy's wig!" Mitzi's mouth twisted and Gene just _knew _she was going to complain that she was the manager, not some go-fer, but he didn't have time for her whining. "Just do it!" he snapped and gave her a little shove to get her moving.

Against the back wall Minion brushed off a chair and Megamind took the seat. Crossing one leg over the other he impatiently crooked his hand at Gene. Minion stood behind his master's shoulder and crossed his arms over his chest. Swallowing, Gene forced his legs to move forward. It seemed to take an incredibly long time to cross the distance. Standing in front of the table, he felt like he was in the principal's office again, though with a lot more to worry about than getting detention.

Megamind opened his mouth, then glared at the table where his elbow rested. With a look of distaste he lifted his arm, the elbow coming away with a faint velcro noise.

"First of all, I shall require you to send someone to hose off this table," he said. "It's rather sticky. With what, I would not like to hazard a guess."

Gene grimaced. "Yeah, yeah, sure. Um. Should I...send out the next...girl?" he said hesitantly. "Only your robots have my DJ over against the wall...they're gonna need music."

"No, there is only one act I am interested in seeing," Megamind said, picking a speck of lint off his leg. "I'm sure you know which one. Your 'Damsel's Rev-ahnge' skit. You may give the rest of your performers the night off, though they are not to leave the premises, I'm afraid."

"It's been canceled!" Gene forced out of his constricted throat. "They're... sick."

"What, both of them?" Megamind said, raising an eyebrow. "Come here, 718." A brainbot swung low with an eager bowg. "Video feed from 23."

A projection came out of the brainbot and formed a rectangular screen in the air. One half of the screen showed Lloyd struggling into his street clothes and scrubbing at the blue make-up on his face with a wet wipe. Gene was impressed. He wouldn't have guessed that Lloyd had the smarts to realize what was going on. The other half of the screen showed Candy pacing around with her arms crossed. Two of the other girls were standing in her room also, and appeared to be trying to calm her down.

Mitzi, he noticed with annoyance, was nowhere in sight.

"They don't look sick to me," Megamind said. Waving his hand, the projection disappeared. "I acknowledge the confusion my entrance must have caused, but security is rather important to someone in my position, you understand," he said, pretending to examine his fingernails. "So I will give you ten minutes to get everything in order and to start the show. Later we can discuss payment."

"Payment?" Gene said weakly.

"Yes, for the security I am providing while I am on the premises," Megamind said. "And I'm afraid I don't come cheap. Ah." The brainbots dropped a small assortment of firearms onto the table with a clatter.

"Hmm." Megamind pursed his lips and picked up a handgun from the pile. He shook his head. "All obtained from your customers, Gene." Gene jumped when a sawed-off shotgun crashed onto the table. "Though I believe this one came from the back office?" he said, turning to look at Minion.

"From behind the bar, I think, Sir."

Megamind pulled back the slide on top of the handgun, looked inside it, and closed it again with a click. "Well, it's a good thing I'm here, then," he said, giving Gene an evil grin. "That way you can relax and leave everything to me."

He aimed and fired. The bartender hit the floor as a light fixture on the wall over the bar shattered, sparked, and winked out.

"Pulls to the left," Megamind said, tossing it back with the others. He began to lean on the table again then hung one arm over the back of the chair instead as Gene slowly emerged from a half crouch.

"Ten minutes," Megamind said, voice hard. "I expect them to be in costume, in full make-up, so I will know exactly what has everyone so excited. I _insist."_

Gene fled. As he approached the hallway that led to the dressing rooms he heard Megamind's delighted voice call out, "Oh look, Minion! It's Lieutenant William Stafford of the Metrocity police department." Gene winced and glanced over his shoulder. A man in a hooded sweatshirt and dark glasses tried to shuffle a little further back behind the other patrons huddled against the wall.

"Hi, Lieutenant!" Megamind said, voice reaching every corner of the room. "How's the wife? And here's a fashion tip, you don't really need to wear sunglasses at night."

* * *

Gene found Lloyd pacing by the back door, streaks of blue still visible on his face.

The big, stolid brainbots had gotten there first. They hovered in front of the exit, only their single red eyes moving, watching their every move. A low rumble vibrated from them as if they were growling.

"I can't get out," Lloyd moaned, rocking back and forth. A few of the little brainbots, who were starting to look like puppies next to the hulking ones, darted around excitedly.

Gene grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back into his dressing room. Lloyd babbled, "Maybe I can shower off, I can..."

"No!" Gene snapped, jabbing a finger at him. "You and Candy gotta get out there and do the show!"

Lloyd goggled at him. "What are you crazy? He'll kill me!"

"You got to! He _insists!" _he couldn't help adding with a sneer. He looked around guiltily. That robot out there had shown the inside of Lloyd's dressing room but there weren't any brainbots around now. Maybe there was a camera somewhere. Did it have audio, too?

"I'll bet he's got the stage wired," Lloyd moaned. "I'll step on it, then BOOM!"

Gene hesitated. Things had been pretty confused, but he didn't think the brainbots had been planting explosives. "No, I...don't think so," he said uncertainly. "I mean, he's sitting right there in the back. He's not gonna blow himself up, is he? Use your head!"

He grabbed Lloyd's shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "Maybe he's just curious. Maybe he needed a night off from terrorizin' the city, so he comes here. Got to be a lot of work, all the terrorizin', tryin' to kill Metro Man. Yeah," he said, turning his head a little and raising his voice so he could be picked up by any possible mics, "The man probably works pretty hard, he deserves a night off!"

Lloyd's eyes darted around uncertainly. "Who are you talking to?" he said.

"It's no big deal," Gene said, turning to Lloyd again, oily persuasion oozing from his voice. Lloyd trembled and opened his mouth but Gene headed him off.

"It's one of them coincidences, that's what it is," he said briskly. "Just do your thing, and everything's gonna be fine." He smiled and patted Lloyd's cheek. Pulling his hand back, he looked at it and wiped it on his shirt, leaving a streak of blue.

"And fix your make-up."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Well, this story needed more of Roxanne. Which is why it has expanded into three chapters instead of two. **_

Chapter 2

"Where are my manners," Megamind cried, leaning forward in his chair. "Brutebots, fan out." The hulking robots drifted back from the men trapped against the wall. "Come on now. Sit!" Megamind gestured broadly with his arms. Hesitantly, the customers began to edge toward the nearest chairs. "No need to stand on ceremony. Barkeep! A round of drinks for these good people. On the house!"

Gene emerged from the dressing room hallway just in time to hear the generous offer of free drinks. He clapped both hands over his head in despair, but when he noticed Megamind coolly looking in his direction, Gene forced a cheerful grin on his face. The waitresses came out of their huddle by the bar and began ferrying drinks across, casting apprehensive looks up at the hovering brainbots.

Not one to let opportunity pass him by, Megamind directed a camerabot to snap a few closeups of the police lieutenant for further reference, amusement, and possible blackmail, making sure that the brightly lit 'Pussycat Club' sign was visible in the background. Lieutenant Stafford was curiously reluctant to part with his sunglasses. Megamind ordered a brainbot to snatch them away.

"That's better," he said. "Let's have a few shots with one of the waitresses on your lap. Come on now, don't be shy! Any takers? Anyone willing to risk contamination? Oh good, we have a willing accomplice. Madam, you are braver than I."

Minion observed the darkening face of the embarrassed cop with some uneasiness. "Do the words 'invasive cavity search' have any meaning for you, Sir?" he muttered. A waitress, falling easily into a familiar chore, plopped into his lap. She even smiled at the camerabot.

Megamind chuckled. "What are you implying, Minion? That something unpleasant will happen to me if I should happen to fall into police custody?"

"You might be walking funny for a while the next time you get arrested in Stafford's precinct, Sir."

"I'm surprised at you, Minion. Casting such vile aspersions on our city's finest." Grinning, he raised his voice to carry across the room. "Stafford is a professional, and if ever I should have the honor of being processed in his station, I have every confidence that I will be treated with core-tesy and respect. Which means no invasive searches, or regrettable situations that may involve getting walked into doors or trips down dangerous stairways. Especially if he doesn't want certain photographs to magically appear in a certain wife's email. Right, Will?" Stafford set his jaw and looked away.

Megamind smirked at Minion. "You see? Have a little faith in human nature." He crossed his leg, placing one of his ankles over the other knee.

Looking over the small hill of firearms piled on his table he noticed some little canisters and fished one out. "What's this, mace?"

"From the strippers, Sir. You did say all weapons."

There were several more containers of mace and pepper spray, and a couple of stun guns, some of them neon purple or a hot pink color, for the ladylike touch, he supposed. He glanced toward the entrance to the dressing rooms. Several of the furloughed dancers were whispering and casting nervous looks around the room, not just towards him, but also towards the customers grouped at the far end, some of whom were chugging down the free liquor as fast as possible.

He turned the little can of spray idly in his hand, musing on this new wrinkle. His seizure of the club had knocked askew the usual balance of power. While it was in his nature to cause as much chaos and turmoil as possible, he didn't approve of _that _sort of trouble, even for women of uncertain virtue. It was...not fitting. He would see to it that there was no trouble of that sort once he left the premises.

"I hardly see how defensive weaponry poses a threat," he said. "Have a brainbot return these items to the ladies."

"I think I know where you're going with this, Sir, but that is _not _a good idea," Minion said firmly.

Megamind frowned. "Honestly, Minion, do you really think those women are going to charge me, tottering forward in their high heels waving these little cans of mace? They wouldn't get more than three feet."

"They could pass them on to others," Minion said darkly, giving a meaningful look at the stiff figure of Lieutenant Stafford. "Somebody's bound to get a stupid idea in their heads and think they're a hero. And then you'd have to make an example and nail their feet to the floor." He made a face. "I mean, I brought the hammer and everything, but all that squealing. It's so noisy, Sir. "

Megamind tsk-ed and waved his hand in irritation. "Oh all _right, _you've made your point. After I have completed my business here, then. See to it that the defensive weapons are returned as we are leaving. Ladies have every right to defend themselves from unwanted attention."

"Like Miss Ritchi?" Minon mumbled and clapped a hand over his mouth. That had just slipped out.

Megamind skewered him with a look. "I believe Miss Ritchi defends herself perfectly well," he said coldly. "Almost broke my foot," he grumbled, turning around again. That was the last time he did the dirty work. He was delegating the actual kidnapping to Minion from now on. She was getting so _physical._

* * *

Roxanne was probably the most secure woman in town. She lived in a very safe neighborhood, but no muggers or those of a more evil intent would stalk her in any case. They didn't dare. Megamind had put the word out. Miss Ritchi was off-limits. And for those who were new to town, or were too stupid to take the hint, they'd better hope and pray that Metro Man found them first. Megamind would see to it that jail was the least of their worries.

Metro City had become astonishingly safe for Caucasian women with short brown hair, at least from random street crime, as criminals tended to give them a wide berth.

Roxanne was safe from other criminal types, but not, of course, from him.

When he'd examined her shoes, after she was out cold, of course, he was surprised to see that the classic style pumps had been reinforced with steel in the toes and heels. No wonder the four-inch heel nearly went through the top of his boot.

She was her usual agitated self, after Minion took the bag off her head. He'd barely opened his mouth to welcome her to his grand scheme, when she laid into him.

"What, already?" she yelled. "The last one was just last week!"

"Four days ago, Miss Ritchi," he said smoothly, uncrossing his legs. He winced as his injured foot touched the floor. "Though you can't be _that _surprised," he said, raising an eyebrow. "You were obviously prepared for at least the possibility of our meeting once again, with those mantraps you're wearing."

"Call it a hunch," she snapped. The reinforced shoes were kind of heavy, but they went so well with her skirt. "And call it what it really is, while you're at it. A kidnapping. This is hardly a meeting."

"I congratulate you on your foresight," he said, steepling his fingers in front of his chest and leaning back in his chair. "It was treacherous, deceitful, and clever. Qualities I find quite admirable. You almost escaped my clutches. Too bad that 'almost' doesn't count." He gave her a smug smile.

She glared at him, then cast her gaze around the room.

"Another drill?" she said, and there was no mistaking the scorn in her voice. "You just happen to have an extra one lying around the place? Even you couldn't rebuild something that quickly."

"Very insightful, Miss Ritchi, though I could, in fact, have rebuilt the drill that flying doofus smashed, if I were so inclined. The first was merely a prototype. This," and he rose swiftly to his feet, "is the _real _deal." He strode toward his grand machine, careful not to limp, and swept his arms out. "The tip of this one," he thundered, "is reinforced with the hardest manufactured substance known to me: a special titanium alloy which..."

"Don't you mean 'known to man'?" Roxanne interrupted dryly.

Pursing his lips in annoyance he half turned back to her. "No, known to _me, _Miss Ritchi," he said patiently. He clasped his hands behind his back and walked back to look down at her. "Since what is known to man, or woman for that matter, is significantly less than what _I _know. Now, as I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted, this alloy is a special compound designed..."

A sudden burst of sparks from the control panel made them both flinch. Minion yelped and slapped at a spark that was threatening to set his hairy robot arm ablaze.

"What are you doing?" Megamind shouted.

"I was only adjusting the flux inhibitor, like you said!" Minion cried, grabbing a water bottle off a table and dousing his arm. Megamind hurried to the console, coughing and waving away smoke.

"You must have done more than that!" he snapped. "It's completely fried!"

"Is that quantifiable, or is that just a rough guess?" Roxanne muttered.

He was not going to dignify that with an answer. She was clearly throwing around a few scientific terms to annoy him."Go get the control panel for the other drill," he ordered.

"But it was smashed."

"Captain Hairdo just tore it out of the wall," Megamind said impatiently. "Once the connective wires are replaced, it will work just fine. Hurry! Move! It's almost go time!" Minion fled with a nervous cloud of brainbots swooping behind him.

He paced across the room, scowling. This was throwing off the entire schedule! On his next sweep across the room, Roxanne sighed heavily, as if she too were impatient by the delay and wanted to get the ball rolling.

"So what did you mean by that crack?"

"And which one would that be, Miss Ritchi?" he said, coming to a halt and leaning over a little to look at her. "I make so many of them. It's an embarrassment of riches."

"Yeah, they're all gems," she said snidely. "I meant that crack about women not knowing anything."

He breathed deeply through his nose. "If you will recall," he said, beginning to stalk around the back of her chair so she had to turn her neck to watch him, "My exact words were, 'since what is known to man, or woman for that matter, is significantly less than what _I _know.'" He came to a halt again just behind her shoulder. "At least my statement was all-inclusive and non-sexist, unlike yours. It was merely a commentary on the general ignorance of the human populace. If it makes you feel any better," he began walking again, casting a raised eyebrow at her as he passed, "I believe that women are marginally more intelligent." He waved a languid hand towards her shoes. "As evidenced by your devious footwear." Personally, she was the smartest person he knew, but he would never say so aloud. She'd never let him hear the end of it.

"I'm so flattered," she said.

He glanced toward the hallway where Minion had disappeared. If they didn't get this plan set in motion within the next hour, it would begin to grow dark, and he'd have to get the floodlights set up.

"What makes you think you're so much smarter than everyone else?"

"It's not an opinion, Miss Ritchi, it's a fact. I am the most intelligent being on the planet. I have invented..."

"Heard it," she said flatly, rolling her eyes. "Do you know what the definition of insanity is?"

"As a matter of fact I do, but please, enlighten me," he snapped.

"It's doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results," she said, and nodded at the massive drill looming over half the room.

"It is not the same, it's a completely different drill," he said hotly, striding closer to it. He waved his hand, pointing out its new, improved features. "Reinforced struts, compact core, and, as I have been repeatedly trying to point out, tipped with an incorruptible titanium alloy of my own design, specifically calibrated to penetrate even the thickest substance in the universe, namely, Metro Mahn's skull."

She snorted. "You will never get him to stay in place long enough for it to work, you do know that, don't you?"

"You'll see, Miss Ritchi," he said smugly. The suspension beam was sure to work this time. Metro Mahn wouldn't be able to move a muscle. "You'll see."

"And where is _my_ death trap? I'm starting to feel a little left out."

"Mwahahaha!" he shouted triumphantly, whipping aside the sheet from the next piece of his master plan. He'd been waiting for this moment!

Her mouth fell open. "Gosh, it's another drill," she said.

"Your elocution is truly underwhelming, my dear," he said with a mad grin. She was obviously using sarcasm to cover up her terror. He waved his arm at the gleaming monstrosity. "No special design needed for this one! Here," he swooped forward, "is the table you will be strapped to. If Minion ever gets back, that is," he added loudly, turning towards the service tunnel. His voice echoed briefly throughout the chamber. He glared at the tunnel, but the wayward ichthyoid did not come hurrying out of it. Shaking his head he turned back to his victim.

With a sweep of the cape he strode over to the drill and pressed the start button. It was pre-set to position itself at the right angle. He raised his voice to be heard over the whirr of the drill as its tip began to dip downward towards the table. "I certainly hope Metro Mahn isn't late," he said with an ee-vil smile. "I would hate to think what would happen to you. Not as large as the other, of course, since a perfectly ordinary mining drill is more than enough to deal with your feeble human anatomy."

He knew he'd chosen the wrong word as soon as it left his mouth. Irresistably, his eyes darted over the anatomy in question. There were many ways to describe Roxanne's anatomy, and 'feeble' was not one of them.

Grrr! He swore he wouldn't do that again! And she'd noticed his glance, too, what with that calculating look in her eye!

He could feel the mood changing, like sand shifting under his feet. The drill fell quiet as it finished its maneuvers. The silence seemed unnaturally loud as she looked over the drill and cast a sideways look at him. "Still pretty big, though. Is it possible you're overcompensating?"

"Now who's predictable," he snapped. "You've used similar lines before, Miss Ritchi. I have no need to compensate for _anything." _

"Sure about that? Seems like most of your machines are pretty big."

He was never quite sure why this happened. She was just amusing herself, surely. She had obviously figured out long ago that the best way to throw him off balance was to start all this flirtation business. It was all a ploy, obviously. Had to be. The few women who had ever flirted with him were always after something, whether it was money, power, or bragging rights for having bagged the most notorious villain in town, or because they were curious about what it was like, sleeping with an alien. He was on to their tricks and whenever such a situation arose, he ignored them or put a stop to their nonsense with a few scathing remarks.

But none of them had gotten under his skin the way Roxanne had. He never felt this way about other women, even female supervillains. Despite the occasional team-up, the primary means of communication between supervillains, male and female alike, was avoidance, and, when that was impossible, chilly politeness and occasional snide comments, while they circled around each other's territories, testing for weaknesses. Turf wars were bad for business, and were usually avoided, but if a coup could be pulled off because of a rival supervillain's inattentiveness, all bets were off.

Was it because she presented such a constant challenge? Or because she was such a goody two-shoes? Opposites attract, it was said. Yet why did it excite him so much when she displayed villainous traits? Because he was certain that if she decided to put her mind to it, she could become a truly terrifying force for ee-vil. It made no logical sense, and the Internet was woefully vague on why an evil man would be attracted to such an obviously good woman, though there were plenty of cases of it working in reverse.

Except for one particular example. He had read about an opposite of Stockholm syndrome, called Lima syndrome, where an abductor develops sympathy for the victim. Ha! As if that would ever happen.

She couldn't possibly want him anyway, not when she held the heart of Mister Perfect. And yet, though he told himself it _was _all a game, a game this heartless woman instigated for her own amusement, he could not resist being drawn into it, because some small part of him wished it were real.

What should he say now? Ah yes, a perfect response. "If you're trying to get a rise out of me, Miss Ritchi, you have failed miserably."

She shrugged. "Can't blame a girl for trying. It's not usually so difficult, getting a rise."

Damn it! Left himself wide open with that one. It was the voice, yes, the way she used her voice, to make even innocent statements drip with innuendo.

"Oh, really? I should think for a temptress like you it would be all too easy," he murmured smoothly as he once again strolled around her chair, and he actually startled her with that one! He couldn't quite see her face, but she gave a little gasp and turned her head to the side. He smiled an evil smile...

...and then Metro Man had come soaring into the room, with Minion clenched in his meaty fist. "Not so fast, villain! Your diabolical scheme is at an end!" he'd shouted. Megamind had lunged for the controls for the suspension beam, but it hadn't even been turned on, and it was all pretty much downhill from there.

* * *

He felt his heart pound in anticipation for his next encounter with that sly vixen. Drat, he'd just decided that he would have Minion handle the kidnappings...but he hadn't actually announced it, had he? He perked up again. Perhaps just one more kidnapping.

He would prevail, of course, she couldn't hope to win against him, he could kidnap her whenever he wished, but it intrigued him to see what she would try next.

He could hardly wait to hear what she had to say when...

A waitress sashayed over to his table. "Can I getcher order?" she said brightly.

His eye twitched at the 'getcher.' Was pronouncing two distinct words so difficult? "Yes, I will have red wine, if you can manage it," he said testily. She nodded, then hurried away.

Gene, gloomily watching his liquor disappearing down the throats of the patrons, and knowing his revenue was going with it, came out of his daze to micromanage, and intercepted her as she scuttled back to the bar. "Whatever he wants! Red wine? Quick, make sure it's fresh!" he snapped at the bartender. "Open a new box!" He turned to the waitress.

"Why don't you try sweetening him up a little?" he demanded.

The waitress shrugged. She'd smiled brightly, put her hand on her hip, and waggled a bit, but he hadn't even looked her over. Just glared and snapped out his order. "I tried, Gene. He's giving off some pretty heavy 'touch me and die' vibes."

Gene flapped his hands in exasperation. "Trixie, you get over there too and clean his table."

Fidgeting and red-faced, he went with the two waitresses back to the table. Megamind leaned back out of the way as Trixie squirted the table with cleanser and scrubbed it wildly with a cloth. "Drink okay and all that?" Gene said anxiously as the other waitress set down the wineglass with a dull clunk.

"Since I haven't actually _tasted _it yet, that would be hard to say," said Megamind. He waved off Gene's stammered apology. "Yes, everything's fine. Your performers ready?"

Gene swallowed. "Out in a minute, sir." He turned to gesture frantically at the hallway.

There was some responsive waving, the DJ started the music, and the show began.

* * *

_**I'm not entirely happy with the description of the interactions between the city's supervillains. But the story was beginning to morph and branch out into a more complicated storyline, in which another supervillain finds out that Megamind is secretly in love with Roxanne, and kidnaps her...so I had to put the brakes on before things got out of hand. To make it simple, I decided that Megamind, here, is not quite the top dog (at least not yet), but is one of the top tier of villains, all of whom have carved out niches for themselves, and are wary of stepping on each other's toes. At least for the purposes of this story.**_


End file.
